Instinctively, Jason picked up a pen and jotted a heading on top of his legal pad. He was grinding his teeth, trying to prevent himself from saying something he might regret.
“What are you doing?” snapped Johansen.
“What do you mean?”
“No notes,” demanded Johansen. “You don’t take notes on this stuff.”
Jason shook his head and put down his pen.
As far as Blake Crawford was concerned, it turned out to be much ado about nothing. A guy named Tony Morris, one of Johansen’s top men, had followed Crawford around, managed to hack into a private e-mail account, discreetly asked questions of friends-“and used a few other techniques as well.” The result? Crawford was squeaky clean. No affairs before his wife died; no female companions since. No Internet porn, no drugs, no financial shenanigans. According to Johansen, he was the male version of Mother Theresa. “Good luck ripping into him,” Johansen said sarcastically.
But the judge… there were definitely rumors about the judge. There was talk about an affair with an assistant at his law firm nine or ten years ago. Some questionable rulings in favor of local developers with ties to his father. A young female defense attorney who never seemed to lose a motion in Garrison’s courtroom.
Johansen certainly had Jason’s attention now. The last thing Jason needed was a judge on the take. “Have you checked his finances since this case was filed?” Jason asked. “Any strange spikes in his standard of living?”
“Is that authorized?” Johansen said derisively “I thought I had strict orders to do only what I’m told.”
“Just answer the question.”
“The judge’s standard of living and his known bank accounts have not changed in any dramatic way.”
“Will you continue to monitor him?”
“Of course.”
Jason contemplated this for a moment. Garrison had seemed to play it straight at the Motion to Dismiss hearing. Still, it couldn’t hurt to keep an eye on him. Jason had no idea where Johansen got his information-didn’t really want to know-but it was handy data nonetheless.
“What do you know about Kelly Starling?” Jason asked.
“I’m sure you’re aware of her time at Justice Inc.,” Johansen replied. “She was a good trial lawyer-tenacious, uncompromising, a true believer. She’s done a lot of work with human trafficking victims in D.C. We did a thorough background check before she worked for us at Justice Inc. and found no skeletons in her closet. Nothing out of the ordinary during her last five years at B amp;W. Seems to be quite the workaholic with no time for romance. Typical Justice Inc. alum.”
Jason asked a few more questions, but Johansen had little additional information. After Johansen left, Bella came in and wiped down his chair with disinfectant. It was an obvious ploy so that Jason would ask her opinion on the matter; therefore, Jason tried to ignore her altogether.
“The man’s got issues,” Bella said when it became obvious that Jason wasn’t going to ask. “I know an investigator named O’Malley who could run circles around him.”
“Thanks for your advice,” Jason said.
“I’m just sayin’… You wrestle with a pig, and you both get dirty. But only one of you likes it.”
“Thanks for the cliche.”
“I’ve got instincts,” Bella said, throwing the paper towels she had used into Jason’s trash can. “And that guy gives me the heebie-jeebies.”
“Noted,” Jason said. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got work to do on this brief.”
52
This was the last place Kelly Starling wanted to be.
The Hillside Clinic was a nondescript medical facility with red brick, lots of glass, trim shrubs, and a small professional sign. It seemed so harmless and sterile. But as Kelly pulled into the parking lot, the memories came back with a debilitating vengeance, like someone had just ripped a fresh hole in her heart.
Kelly backed into a spot in the far corner of the lot and left the car running as she stared at the building.
She had read a few online journals written by other women who had taken the RU-486 pill and later spilled their emotions for the entire world to read. The women featured on the pro-life sites said they thought about their babies every day. How old were they now? What would have been their first words? their favorite toy?
Some wrote about the deception they had experienced at the clinics they used. The women had been promised that the abortion would be like any other period. But some had seen an embryo larger than expected. Some talked about their desire to have a burial.
Kelly’s experience had not been like that. A nurse at Hillside had made it clear that the RU-486 pill was not convenient and painless. She had carefully explained the differences between chemical abortion and surgical abortion with patience and sensitivity. Kelly’s impression, which proved to be right, was that the RU-486 pill would be like a miscarriage with bleeding and cramping and a sense of loneliness.
And plenty of guilt, something the nurse had not talked about.
Most women said they chose the pill rather than surgery because it seemed more natural and allowed them to have a semblance of control. These were definitely factors in Kelly’s thinking. She could start the process at home, on her schedule. And it felt like something she did to herself, rather than something somebody else did to her.
But in hindsight, Kelly realized that she had also picked RU-486 precisely because it was not easy and quick and painless. In a convoluted way that Kelly couldn’t quite express, it felt right to suffer, as if the process itself should be the beginning of her penance.
Six years old. Her baby would have started first grade this year.
She blinked back tears and forced herself to focus on the job at hand. She had turned this over and over in her mind, always reaching the same conclusion. The leak must have come from someone at the clinic. She would walk in and demand a meeting with her doctor, refusing to leave until he gave her a few minutes of his time. She would tell him that somebody had threatened to disclose the fact that she had been pregnant. She would explain that she had talked to no one outside the clinic about it. She would demand that he investigate.
But even as she rehearsed the conversation in her mind, she recognized the problems with this approach. There was a good chance her doctor would become defensive. Even if he initiated an investigation, it would probably be clumsy and ineffective, serving no purpose other than to make the blackmailer more circumspect. If the doctor brought in outside authorities, it would only increase the number of people who knew about Kelly’s abortion.
Kelly knew she might temporarily feel better if she gave the doctor a piece of her mind, but it would solve nothing. Everyone at the clinic had treated her with kindness and respect. In her heart, it was hard to believe that somebody in there was working with the blackmailer.
She stared at the clinic and tried to honestly assess her own motives. Was she hesitating because she was scared? Or was this genuinely a bad idea?
Either way, she couldn’t make herself go in there.
She put her car in drive and pulled out of the parking spot. She would find out who was behind the blackmail; her resolve hadn’t been weakened one bit.
But this was not the way.
53
Jason had heard that the ability of opposing lawyers to get along decreased exponentially as trial approached. Now he knew it was true. Throw in a high-profile case, a frosty relationship at the outset, and two young lawyers both trying to make a name for themselves, and the result was a constant parade to the courthouse
